


The psalm of David

by ratfromasewer



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Biblical References, Car Accidents, Explicit Language, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hospitals, M/M, Oneshot, Paralysis, Religious Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, fluff (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratfromasewer/pseuds/ratfromasewer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's the world that's "after" and there's the world that's "before". After the slippery road, the accident, the almost-becoming-an-angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The psalm of David

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about this.

_The Lord is my shepherd.  
I lack nothing._

_He lets me rest in grassy meadows;_

_he leads me to restful waters;_  
_he keeps me alive._  
_He guides me in proper paths_

_for the sake of his good name._

_Even when I walk through the darkest valley,_  
_I fear no danger because you are with me._  
_Your rod and your staff—_  
_they protect me._

 **__ ** _You set a table for me_

_right in front of my enemies.  
You bathe my head in oil;_

_my cup is so full it spills over!_

_Yes, goodness and faithful love_

_will pursue me all the days of my life,_

_and I will live in the Lord’s house_

_as long as I live._

 

***

 

Flashing lights

  And mom said _be careful, it’s been raining_

_the road will be very slippery_

And she was right, as she always is. As the car rolls over – she was right, I should’ve waited ‘til morning.

  _mom don’t worry it’ll be fine_

_mom_

Mom

 

***

 

I always thought that heaven would’ve been nice but this is not nice, not nice at all.

  Mom

  I’m screaming through it now, I don’t want to be dead, I don’t want to become a glassy angel on your bedroom drawer or any angel for that matter

  Or is this hell? Is this what it all came down to? I was wrong all along

  Is this hell?

  Mom, please say I didn’t go to hell

  I tried my best

 

***

 

I can hear them from a distance now. And everything is metal for me, I’ve stopped screaming. Now I just whisper _I’m sorry mom I should’ve waited until morning_

_I always thought that I’d be a dad someday maybe_

***

 

I can hear them. I thought they were angels at first but then I realized they’re doctors and nurses. I’m trying to tell them to take away the pain in my head. So far nothing.

  Everything is nothing.

 

***

 

First clear thoughts; _have they remembered to give sweet pea her evening meal_

***

 

I thought I saw something but I think I blinked and it faded. However, there’s a weight on my chest and it feels like hands.

      Warm hands

  Second clear thoughts: _Fuck I need a smoke_

 

***

 

Voices come clearer now. And if I try hard enough, there’s mom. I can’t hear what she says, but there’s this certain bleep which I assume to be the voice of my heart. I hang onto the weak sound-

  Please don’t stop bleeping

  Not exactly done here

  I don’t want to be an angel yet ok?

 

***

 

_Frankie_

_Frankie_

_Frankie_

_Frankie please wake up_

_**Wake up!**_

****

***

 

Please don’t cancel me from the world, God

  I know I wasn’t good but just

  Give me another chance, I can do it, I promise

  This time

  Please

 

***

 

Mom cries for me and there’s nothing I can do about it

  I’m barely unconscious, not anywhere near awake.

 

***

 

_Can you hear me Frankie?_

Mom?

   _Frankie?_

Mom. Mom. Mom

  _Frankie please wake up_

Mom it hurts

  _Frankie you have to wake up, please_

I can’t, mom, I can’t, hurts too much, mom

  _If you can’t wake up then_

Mom help me

  _If you can’t wake up, then just go to sleep, Frankie_

Help me

  _Frankie, angel_

It hurts please help me

  _Sleep or wake up_

**mom**

 **** _I love you so much, Frankie_

***

 

It’s getting easier to breathe.

 

***

 

I should’ve waited until morning and not drive on a slippery road when it had been raining two days straight.

 

***

 

I’m awake I’m awake I’m awake **_I’m awake_**

 

***

 

“Frankie, angel.” She says, and her hair is still made of ripe grain.

  “No mom”

  “What is it, darling?”

  “I don’t want to be an angel.”

 

They bring me news. Dad pays another visit from another side of the whole damn coast. Everything is sugar-coated with morphine.

  Except for the nights I wake up screaming the ache everywhere

 

_Everywhere_

***

 

They tell me I won’t walk again. I spend the day watching news.

 

***

 

“Full _mental_ recovery” sounds nice until you realize what it doesn’t include.

  Everything else

***

 

I’m alive????

  I’m alive

  Mom sings-songs my name now.

  _Frankie!_

  I’m alive, barely, but then again, almost is enough for me, for now

 

***

 

I can’t eat by myself. I can’t walk. I can’t smoke. I can’t jack off, take a shit or fuck. Speaking is hard, I’d rather not

  Because I have to say everything at least twice.

  I watch news.

  Iraq’s situation is getting worse every day.

 

***

 

I try to pray, say thanks or something, but it doesn’t work out. Where is he? Where's God?

 

***

 

They move me from department to another. This one has nicer beds and a lot more privacy. Not that I’d _actually_ have any of that, considering my condition.

 

_23 year-old in fucking diapers_

_Fuck this_

“You’ll probably get home before Christmas!” Mom says and her smile melts me. It’s April now.

 

  “How’s Sweet Pea?”

  “She’s fine” Mom says, and I know she doesn’t like dogs. But she’s learning to, for my sake.

 

***

 

I spend three days trying to move my toes – I’ve seen Kill Bill, after all.

  Nothing happens.

 

***

 

The physiotherapist has brown eyes and a _great_ ass.

 

  “Frank Iero?” He grins, “Hi. I’m Gerard, Gerard Way.”

  “Nice to meet you Mr. Way.”

  _not really_

“Just Gerard is fine” He brushes off the politeness, “We’ll be spending lots of time together.”

  “Please call me Mr. Iero.” I mutter.

   He looks confused.

  “Okay then.”

 

***

 

Jersey boy doesn’t like being told what to do. And I fucking hate this. Round 2 of childhood. And this will last for a lifetime

  Everyone talks to me like I’m stupid.

 

***

 

“How are you holding up today, Mr. Iero?”

  “Waiting for death.”

  “How about some muscle exercises instead?”

 

  I’m getting tired of looking through my window. There’s people who live out there. And I don’t like to look at the living when I’ve already got most of my body in the grave.

 

***

 

Gerard Way isn’t as bad as he could be. He’s okay for a doctor or whatever his profession actually is. But he’s alive and I hate him for that.

 

***

 

“Do you think you can try a bit harder?” He asks and I do everything I fucking can, but nothing’s enough for him.

  “Fuck you” I say but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by that. And eventually I can get my fingers working, a bit, sort of.

  “It’s a beginning” Gerard states hopefully, and he’s wearing his black button-up today, looks like he’s coming from a funeral.

   I can’t believe how he has the guts to come and talk about beginning when it’s felt like the end for a while now.

 

“You wanna know what sucks the most?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “It was my own fault.”

 

***

 

The hospital food tastes like the inside of an old man’s ass. Not that I’d know what that tastes like, but I can imagine.

  They tell me I have to eat. Quirky little nurses.

  Fuck ‘em

  I don’t need energy for anything, really. I just fucking lay in bed or sit in a wheelchair, pushed around, helpless.

  Fuck every single fucking one of ‘em

 

***

 

“Angel, you really need to eat.” Mom visits me every other day, and she brings gifts, and cards, and people wishing me well.

  Random relatives tend to show up on the doorsteps. I wonder where they would’ve sat in the funeral if I had died, or if they’d been invited at all.

 

“Stop calling me an angel, mom. Please.”

  “But Frankie, you’re missing my point.”

 

I’m not missing anything but the fact I used to be alive.

 

***

 

“You look thinner, Mr. Iero.” Gerard says. He still hasn’t dropped the last name, just because I asked. I guess he has to play along because I’m apparently _traumatized_

**T**

    **R**

**A**

**U**

**M**

**A**

**T**

**I**

**Z**

**E**

**D**

Fucking bullshit

 

  “Thank you!”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

 

***

 

By the end of June, I’ve managed to get my fingers work well enough to write. Sloppily like a child, but still.

  I’m trying to hide my excitement but I think Gerard notices anyway.

 

  “Told you, Mr. Iero” He nearly shines, “We’re making progress.”

  “Call me Frank.”

 

  He looks happy.

 

***

 

Mom brings a rosary and hangs it on my small TV. She’s also bought a blanket, books, my headphones, movies and a framed picture of us before the accident.

  A kind nurse called Emily usually helps out if I need something.

  Could be worse.

  Could be better too.

 

Mom refuses to bring cigarettes.

 

***

 

I noticed the other day that I really don’t have any friends. My only regular visitor is mom.

  I think I get pity-looks from the other patients.

 

***

 

This old Latina called Valeria helps me get some cigarettes through one nurse who desperately needs money. She tells me that the nurse deals weed too if I’m interested.

  I promise to think about it.

 

***

 

I think I’ve taken advantage of God. Does that give me a special place in hell?

  I don’ think I want to be alive at all.

  Sorry ‘bout that.

 

***

 

“The fuck you think you’re doing, exactly?” Gerard gets furious when he sees me smoking on the small balcony. I’ve learned how to persuade one of the nurses to get me into the wheelchair and take me to the mentioned balcony because _I need some fresh air_ and then leave me alone for a moment.

  Gerard takes the pack from my lap and throws it on the ground, crushes it with his feet, and all I can do is watch

 

  “It would only slow down your development! You need to stay healthy!”

  “But I’m not _healthy,_ am I?!”

I hate my voice when it shakes.

  He doesn’t answer me.

 

***

 

Summer makes the hospital boil inside. Bad ventilation. The air smells like disinfectant and painful death.

  Sometimes I can hear the woman in the room next to me cry. She misses home.

 

***

 

Wow, I’m very lonely. Mom looks tired visiting me.

  I suggest she’d come like, once a week.

  She agrees with me, secretly relieved

 

I always thought that I’d be a dad someday maybe, but that won’t happen and that’s today’s random upsetting fact about my condition.

 

 

***

 

One of the bad nights, I look at the rosary and think about God. And the church mom used to take me to when I was small.

  I pray but there’s nothing. Just silence, and metal, and snoring, and bleeping.

  No God.

  God’s busy today.

 

***

 

“How are you?” Gerard pulls a chair for himself. He looks slightly less chubby and he’s dyed his hair (red as the Canadian flag.)

 He’s hot.

 

 “I’m okay.”

  “For real?”

 

  I tell him that I’m lonely. I have no friends, and I’ve never had; I’ve been the type who sits home alone and marathon watches stupid science fiction series.

  It has never really bothered me, until now. Now I’m stuck.

 

  “I’m your friend.”

  “You get paid for this.” I snarl, “You get paid for putting up with me.”

  “You know, you’re my last patient today.”

 

He stays for an extra hour and we watch X-files together.

 

 

***

 

There’s a Smashing Pumpkins show in Jersey today. I’d sell the last remaining pieces of my fucking useless soul if I could go but there’s nothing I can do about it. The doctors won’t allow it and besides it’d be almost impossible to arrange.

  Fuck it, then.

 

***

 

Gerard brings me pictures he took in the show. I didn’t know he even liked the band. We spend centuries talking about the latest album.

  We both agree it’s not as good as the older ones.

 

***

 

One night I wake up screaming. Emily comes running but the time she arrives I’ve already forgotten what the dream was about.

  I’m a mess when she checks my pulse.

  I might sob something against her helpful hands.

  _I want to die_

 

***

 

Emily has reported to the doctors. They want me to talk to a shrink. The guy visits me wearing a fucking brown suit and sits uncomfortably close to my bed, asks me stupid questions and I stare at the ceiling. Whatever, I might as well be honest this once.

  The shrink-guy has a big mole right between his eyebrows. It’s kind of hypnotizing and I miss half of the things he says.

 

***

 

I’ve been rated suicidal and put under a special surveillance. As if I could _actually_ slit my wrists or throw myself out of the window.

  Well I probably could, but it’d take an awfully lot of effort and planning, and I’m way too fucking lazy for that.

  They don’t give me metal knives or forks to eat with anymore. It’s all plastic cutlery now

  Because I’m _traumatized, depressed_ and _suicidal_

  Awesome

 

***

 

“Frankie, my angel.” Mom cries against my chest. I feel bad for her. And equally bad for myself.

 

***

 

The brunette roots in Gerard’s hair become even more visible. One day he asks if it’s okay if he visits me on his free time too.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because we’re friends.”

 

Watching X-files with him is fun. He does a good imitation of Mulder and he brings me chocolate when I ask him to. He still won’t let me smoke, though.

  He’s getting chubbier again and his brother has gotten engaged, so he tells me. I’m not sure if he’s happy about it or not

  Maybe he’s just jealous.

 

***

 

Something backfires and they have to do an operation. Gerard visits me right before they come and take me.

  He squeezes my hand and tells me it’ll be okay.

 

***

 

Hospitals are bad places to have crushes on people

 

***

 

Valerie passes away and they change the sheets of her bed. Something was fucked up with her liver and her heart.

  I feel bad for her and the other patients do too. Who the fuck will deal their cigarettes and weed now? Valerie handled everything.

  Tragedy for all of the friends of nicotine.

 

***

 

Aches are the worst. Nothing takes them away. I don’t think I’m making progress anymore and I kind of feel like Gerard’s giving up too. The doctors never had too much hope to begin with – I can barely use my hands and move my upper body a bit, that’s something.

  At least

  I kind of miss privacy

  Emily has to wash me and I hate it

 

***

 

Happy birthday to you

  Happy birthday to you

   Happy birthday dear Frankie, our useless burden of a person

   Fucking happy birthday to you

 

***

 

24 and nearly dead. They should make a reality show out of that.

 

***

The shrink still visits me but I rarely answer his questions anymore. Mostly we just sit in silence. I rather talk to Gerard, to be honest.

  Although we mostly talk about his brother, and how he’s the happiest he’s ever been

  And how Gerard is kind of lonely like me and how his apartment is actually really shitty and how he needs to get a new car and how he practically lives on noodles.

 

***

 

“I brought you some more cake” mom says

   It’s too sweet, I want to throw up.

 

***

 

I kind of fucked with God and see where that got me; being a useless, handicapped waste of space in a crappy hospital.

  _Be strong and courageous_

_Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you._

_He will not leave you or forsake you._

 

***

 

I ask Emily to get me into my wheelchair and push me to the TV. I take the rosary and she helps me open the window.

  I throw it out

  “Did that feel good?” She asks.

  “No.”

  Nothing does

 

***

 

Mom notices it’s gone but she doesn’t mention it.

 

***

 

“What were you like?” Gerard sits on the edge of my bed, crossed legs and opening a wrapper of a toffee, “I mean, before… the… accident.”

  “Ungrateful.” I mumble.

 

  “It must be tough.” He says, eyes full of sympathy.

  “It’s not _tough_ ” I say, slowly putting one of the toffees into my mouth, “it’s just suffocating because there’s nothing you can do.”

  “You can try and get better.” He shrugs, “I believe that –“

  “No you don’t.”

 

He has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen to be honest.

 

***

 

“Raymond’s gonna visit you!” Mom shines like the sun from the teletubbies and I can’t recall the name.

  “Raymond who?”

  “Oh come on, you must remember Raymond!” She slaps my arm, “You were friends in… high school?”

  “You mean Ray? How much did you pay him to come?”

 

Fucking fuck.

 

  “Don’t be so bitter.” Mom nags and I lose it.

  “Honestly, I think I have the fucking right to be bitter, thank you very much.”

 

***

 

Emily breaks up with her boyfriend and I cheer her up. Plenty of fish in the sea, plenty of fuckboys in Jersey.

  No worries, she’s still young and she has a good butt

  She giggles

  I hope she doesn’t think I’m into her.

 

***

 

Meeting Ray’s not as awkward as you would imagine. He brings Kerrang magazines (“thought I’d get you updated on what’s happening) and we talk about the school we used to go to

  It feels oddly normal.

  He promises to see me again.

 

***

 

It hasn’t occurred to me how expensive this must be until I realize it and everything crumbles apart. I should’ve died, really

  It would’ve been more economical, and it’s not like I can earn anything, I can’t _work_

  Sorry mom, so sorry

  so, so, so sorry

 

***

 

Gerard’s pro at Mario Kart and I like to watch him play.

 

***

 

Doctors are making promises; home for Christmas, Frank! And I don’t really have a heart to tell them that I _hate_ it and I’d much rather just sleep over the whole fuzz about fucking family values or whatever bullshit

  Christmas is a commercial, Christmas sells.

 

***

 

I don’t talk about things to the shrink, but one night I open up to Gerard when he’s visiting me again (seriously, why does he do that?). He’s dyed his hair back to black and he’s wearing a band t-shirt and baggy jeans.

  He looks younger when he’s not dresses for work.

 

“How old are you, Gerard?” I cough, my lungs have been bothering me for a while. I think I have a cold or something, somehow.

  “I’m twenty eight.”

  “Oh. Wow.” I look at the familiar ceiling, “Not much older than I am.”

 

And still I feel like an old man, a weak, fading cripple who no one would miss if he passed. And I tell Gerard that, because he’s the only one I can talk about this. I don’t even know why I bother him with it, I’m not his responsibility.

 

  “I’d miss you.” He says, pretty lame, actually.

  “Sure you would” I brush it off, “and then you’d get over it.”

  “I won’t let you go anywhere.” He threatens, “We’ve got so much shows to watch, man, come on.”

  “It’s Christmas, soon.” I remind him, “Home. And I don’t think mom or I or anyone else can pay you for doing something that’s not helping. All the exercises and all… sorry, but you’re wasting your time with me.”

  “No I’m not.” He swears.

  “Well the last time I checked, I was still pretty much paralyzed so – “

 

  “So?” He looks at me, weirdly, “So? You’re not the _only_ one, for _fuck’s sake!_ You’ll live, man. You will. Really the only thing that’s killing you is your own fucking head. Not your paralyzed limbs or whatever.”

 

  “I’m sure I’m not the only _traumatized, depressed_ and _suicidal_ person in the world either, am I? Nothing special for you, I suppose. Another fucking client, a cripple who complains.”

 

  “Frank –“

 

  “Get the fuck out.”

 

***

 

_The only thing killing you is your own head_

***

 

Mom asks me what I want for Christmas. I tell her that I want her to stop paying for an expensive physiotherapist.

  Again, she seems relieved, but she won’t agree with me first. It’s not until I convince her that the treatment is doing nothing but making me irritated, that she finally admits that she doesn’t have any extra money.

  I bet she doesn’t.

 

***

 

Dad and Ray show up at a same time. Dad brings me a plastic bag full of books and Ray sneaks me beer under his jacket.

  I spend a pleasant evening getting tipsy and reading Children of the corn. I hide the empty beer cans under my mattress and the cigarette-dealing nurse (I think his name is Bert) promises to take out the cans for me.

  He’s a good guy.

 

***

 

Emily has gotten herself a girlfriend. I tell her good luck and she’s so fucking in love it hurts. I wish I knew what that’s like

  I wish I lived before I died.

 

***

 

I spend few days missing everyone I’ve ever dated just for the sake of it. I wish I’d taken the opportunity to love and to cuddle and to fuck the shit out of everyone before it was too late.

 

  Gerard doesn’t show up anymore. I suppose mom’s stopped paying him, then.

 

  Good? I guess?

 

The shrink dude gives up with me. Final diagnosis; trauma-related, clinical depression. They bring me these new pills, just add it to the fucking list. Antidepressants, I suppose.

  I put them behind my tongue and don’t swallow, and when Emily looks away I spit them on my palm and hide them under the covers.

 

***

 

Christmas is getting closer.

 

***

 

I hate the fact that I didn’t die because now it seems irrational to do so, because so many people have wasted so much money, energy and time to get me better. Well technically it’s their own fucking fault but I’m trying very hard to be nicer.

 

***

Bert gets caught and fired. I hope he’s okay.

 

***

I dedicate a whole day to crying because I think I haven’t done that before and some people say it helps. Once I start, there’s nothing that can stop me.

  I’m drowning

  Some of them ask me if I’m okay but most of them just feel better about themselves, _look, he has emotions again_

_must be the pills_

Crying doesn’t exactly help but it’s still _crying,_ feeling, doing something

  So I don’t complain, really.

 

***

 

Gerard comes back like nothing’s happened, big read “sorry” painted all over his face. His brother’s with him he introduces us stiffly

  _here’s my friend I’ve been telling you about, Mikey_

I can feel the little brother’s engagement ring when I shake his hand. He looks alarmed by my looks, by the fact my hair has gotten thinner and my cheeks are hollow and I look like a piece of grey cloth thrown over a skeleton.

 

I think about it tonight before I fall asleep. I used to be good-looking, now I just look like a fucking ghost.

 

***

 

Mikey and I get along pretty well and suddenly I have two friends and a whole lot of things to talk and think about, which is nice

  They never mention how weird this is, so I don’t either.

  I’ll just pretend it’s totally fucking normal.

 

***

 

My body doesn’t really seem to co-operate. A new set of pain

  And I’m falling in love

  Gerard misses his red hair, and I do too, I tell him it was sexy and he giggles. The world goes round. I ask Gerard if he’ll buy me cigarettes now. He won’t, but Mikey will. I like him a lot already.

  “Don’t give him fucking lung cancer” Gerard whines but he can’t really help it, can he? And my lungs feel empty and hollow and useless anyway so why the fuck not.

  “Mom told you not to visit me anymore, didn’t she?” I ask, “I mean, professionally.”

  “She did, yeah” Gerard shrugs, “But I can still make you do exercises as a friend, you know.”

  “No you can’t.”

  “Wanna bet?”

 

I’m all over him, in a spiritual sense and my _god_ he’s hot, and it’s confusing, because I glare at him and imagine all the things I’d want him to do _if_ the fucking useless piece of spaghetti between my legs wasn’t unable to show any kind of interest.

  Or if even my hands were fine. That’d be good too. I could do stuff with my hands, but they’re not as good as they used to be.

 

“You know they used to call me a limpdick in high school” I tell the Ways, “I guess they predicted future, then.”

  Mikey looks mildly disgusted.

 

  “Don’t wanna talk about this dude.” He tries to stop me.

  “Why not? You would be pissed off too if your genitals were useless.”

  “Well” Gerard’s kind of blushing, “I dunno, the doctors were unsure –“

 

  “Oh, lovely.” I roll my eyes, “Because complete strangers discussing my ability to pop boners doesn’t make me at all uncomfortable.”

  “Man, you were doing the exact same thing a second ago.” Gerard points out. His jeans are pretty worn out.

  “You’re not complete strangers. Besides I have the right to open up about this, you know? My shrink used to tell me that a lot.”

  “You talked about your boner worries to your shrink?” Mikey raises his eyebrows.

  “No, I mean –“

 

Gerard keeps his hand on my thigh the entire time they hang out with me that night. I think it’s supposed to mean something but I’m not sure.

 

***

 

The worst part of being like a stone and still is feeling like a statue.

  Birds shit on me

  Time flies by

  And there’s nothing I can do about it

 

***

 

I’m having another bad day. Mom makes up excuses not to come when in all honestly she’s just tired and I have no reason to blame her for that.

  It’d be better for everyone to just let myself go. People around me keep walking away from me and dragging me with them must get exhausting at some point.

  That’s life

  That’s my life.

 

I decided not to stay for a night because I wanted to get home and watch a movie with myself, in peace. And it had been raining. And I am… _was_ a bad driver, and it was dark, and the road was slippery, and I was tired and not paying attention and my car was crappy.

  And it happened.

  Someone drove past me in a huge speed, I panicked, I turned the wheel, I lost control

 

Flashing lights

  Crash

  Crash _crash_

 

And eventually, silence.

 

***

 

I’ve hidden a lot of pills from them

  A lot

   _A lot_

***

 

Gerard brings me mistletoe.

  He also kisses me under it.

  It’s barely December.

 

***

 

Gerard lays next to me on the bed, mom’s in the chair, Ray’s on the floor and this is _gathering, oh how nice_ and mom keeps looking at Gerard like she’s trying her best to act normal “oh, okay, as if my son couldn’t get any more unordinary but now he’s gay too” and Gerard keeps giving me sloppy kisses on the cheek and Ray doesn’t say much but he looks like he’s happy for me.

  We talk about the weather and Stephen King novels.

 

 Later on we get to spend some time alone, Gerard and I, just the two of us. He keeps saying _boyfriend_ and I don’t know how it happened.

  Christmas is coming.

 

“Your mom’s nice” Gerard pulls himself on my lap and snuggles me, pushes his forehead against mine and I try to inhale his warmth while I’m just a cold, empty shell.

  His weight feels cosy.

 

  I enjoy the seconds while I have them.

 

***

 

I hate the hospital but something tells me that I’d hate home more.

 

***

 

“You know he’s not serious about it” Mikey says when Gerard goes to bathroom, “I’m sorry, he’s just… He… I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” I close my eyes. “Just let me have it now.”

 

‘Cause he’s all I got.

 

***

 

At first Gerard’s not serious about it, but I think he starts to be. But obviously he hesitates and I tell him to fuck off while he can and I tell him I wouldn’t be upset. He doesn’t want to talk about it, life is apparently too short.

  Funny, because mine feels very long.

  We watch X-Files and he holds my hand, grabs me and holds me and has his face all over my hair and I wonder why I’m not gross and disgusting to him, why the fact that I’m barely human doesn’t scare him away?

  I’m an animal without a dignity

 

And I miss my dog a lot

 

***

 

I get home for Christmas, after all. First I stare at the road, then the door, then the living room, then everything that reminds me of what I used to be and what life was, and everything hurts

  Mom sees it too.

  It’s the worst Christmas so far.

 

At least there’s Sweet Pea. She’s gotten older and sadder. I bet mom hasn’t petted her at all. She seems to wonder why I don’t run to greet her but she remembers me and climbs on my lap, and eventually falls asleep when I scratch her behind her ear.

 

At night I wake up swimming in my own sweat and yelling so they have to take me back as soon as it’s possible. Mom prays. I don’t, anymore.

  Apparently there’s another thing that’s wrong that they missed.

 

***

 

I think I was supposed to get killed and God kept me alive to show me how unnecessary it would be for a person like me to keep breathing.

  Fair enough, learned my fucking lesson.

 

***

 

One pill, two pills, three –

  Gerard walks in while I’m at it but he doesn’t notice so I don’t say anything. He hugs me and kisses my forehead and says _I missed you_

  Three pills do no harm.

  I spend the night talking about the universe (and pancakes.)

 

***

 

Good thing I figured out how to write.

 

***

 

“Emily, what was that one nurse guy’s name again? Bert something?” I fiddle the sheets nervously.

  “Bert McCracken, what about him?”

  “You’re friends?”

  “Not really” She shrugs and casually sticks another injection in my arm, I barely feel it anymore, “I liked him, though.”

  “Could you tell him thanks if you see him? Like, tell him, that Frank Iero says thank you?” I bite my lip.

  “I guess?” Emily nods, giving me a weird glare, “What’s up, Frank?”

  “Nothing” I shake my head.

 

I tell her back a silent _thank you Emily_ when she leaves the room, closing the door almost gently behind her as she always does.

 

***

 

The hospital tells Gerard that it’s kind of inappropriate to have a relationship with a former patient. Gerard doesn’t give a flying fuck.

  But he’s getting tired of being nothing but a nurse for me.

  Personal fucking nurse

 

We’re running out of time to be happy.

 

***

 

_A lot of pills_

   I think of them

 

***

 

"I've been thinking" Gerard informs me, he's got his other foot thrown over me and he's hovering all over my body (not that it'd do any good for me), "You won't be in the hospital for-fucking-ever."

  "Yeah, I know right. See, how well Christmas went." 

  "It was a coincidence. Could've happened at the hospital too."

  "Anyway, you were saying?"

  "So" He plays with my hair and I look at him and I feel nothing and it scares the living shit out of me, "I've been wondering if you'd like to live at my place. Maybe. I dunno."

  "Like... roommates?"

  "Well..." He blushes, "I was kind of thinking like... living together... as a couple... you know..."

 

Maybe in another life, Gerard.

 Another time.

 

  I wish I would've met him when everything was still okay. I wish he would've walked past me in a show and I would've checked him out and thought to myself; "daamn"

  And we would've started talking, and he would've given me his number, and I would've hesitated for two weeks before having the courage to call, and we would've gone on a lame date but gotten along anyhow and we would've realized how we had crushes on each other

  Blowjobs on the backseat of his car

  And he would've taken my dog out when I had cold

  And movies, and films, and more privacy 

  And I actually would have been able to make him happy. But now I'm just an empty guy with nothing to believe in, nothing to trust in, nothing to hold onto. And my eyes are getting heavy.

 

I will miss his smile.

 

***

 

**_Frank please wake up_ **

**_Wake up you asshole, I love you_ **

**_I love you_ **

**_Please don’t let go, Frank_ **

**_Please_ **

**_I love you, I love you, I_ **

**_Someone help me, help us_ **

**_Help him_ **

**_Frank_ **

**_Frank!_ **

**_Frank, it’s Gerard, can you hear me_ **

**_Please_ **

**_Wake up Frank_ **

 

But I can’t wake up anymore.

 

***

 

_The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it,_

_the world and its inhabitants too._  
_Because God is the one who established it on the seas;_  
_God set it firmly on the waters._

_Who can ascend the Lord’s mountain?_  
_Who can stand in his holy sanctuary?_  
_Only the one with clean hands and a pure heart;_

_the one who hasn’t made false promises,_  
_the one who hasn’t sworn dishonestly._

_That kind of person receives blessings from the Lord_  
_and righteousness from the God who saves._  
_And that’s how things are_  
_with the generation that seeks him—_  
_that seeks the face of Jacob’s God._


End file.
